


My Last Wish is You

by Cumbermarvel (UglyJackal), GrangerousNerd



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, But still majority is Au, Iron Man - Freeform, It's like an AU within MCu, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Like not all of it is AU, M/M, Magic, Rhodey is so exasperated with Tony, Tony Stark has weird dreams, slight au?, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyJackal/pseuds/Cumbermarvel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrangerousNerd/pseuds/GrangerousNerd
Summary: Strange visions haunt Tony as he searches for the answer to his arc reactor's palladium core poisoning. The answer that comes to him, however, is much more 'mystical' than he wanted it to be and opens up some other secrets of his past.Takes place after Iron Man 1.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first collab between me (Tumblr:@thecooingcat) and Jack (Tumblr: @strangeman-marvel/ @UglyTwinkBoi) and honestly, it's been MARVELous working with this cutie like holy shit is writing spirit being rejuvenated. Anyways, we had a lot of fun writing this and hope everyone else has as much fun (or more) reading it. Enjoy!

 

 

_“Commander, Alpha Bravo One approaching the marked location. Over.”_

 

_“Alpha Bravo One, any spike in the energy signatures? Over.”_

 

_“Negative, Commander. Over.”_

 

_“Alright. Colonel Rhodes, you’re good to go.Over.”_

 

_“Alright, Central Command. Alpha Bravo entering the cave. No sign of SI payload yet.”_

 

_“Keep searching, Colonel. Over.”_

 

After a few more minutes of absolute static, there was communication from the team again.

 

_“Command Centre. No SI payload has been found. But… you need to see this for yourself, sir.”_

 

On one side of the world, Tony Stark was laying in bed, sound asleep. It was a rare sight, seeing as the man was a well-known insomniac, who would often stay awake for days on end. His sleep was punctuated by flashes of a man. Not just any man. He saw very distinctive features, such as a red cape. In his dream-addled state, he was concerned that he was dreaming about Thor. But then he saw the most striking black hair with silver-white streaks at his temples, sweeping across his head like the wings of a swan. He saw eyes with entire galaxies inside them, where green and blue and grey coalesced into two irises in an ocean of steeled nerves. But what was most peculiar about these features was that he felt an intense attachment to them, which didn’t make any sense.

 

On the other side of the world, a group of American military soldiers overseen by James Rhodes were charging into a cave, searching for more weapons hidden by the terrorists. But what they found instead was a glittering treasure trove. They saw gold upon silver upon platinum; delicate relics and priceless artefacts. Their eyes were drawn to the lamp in the middle, the rest of the wealth in the cave seemed to be pushed away from the lamp by an impenetrable force. One of the soldiers stepped forward, hand reaching out, edging closer to the shining gold gleam of the surface of the lamp. There was a crackle of aggressive energy as the soldier’s fingers crept closer, as though the lamp was raising its hackles like a territorial cat. But the soldier was undeterred and his skin pressed against the lamp.

 

There was a burst of energy and the soldier was thrown back with a flash of green power.

 

As the soldier’s back hit the ground, Tony jerked awake, the image of cupid bow lips in his mind.

 

* * *

 

When all the treasures were cleared and sealed off in the Mi-26, an incredible 28-tonne capacity heli-carrier, Rhodes immediately called Bruce, informing him of the drop-off location, date and time. He had no clue yet as to why two mad-scientists would be interested in old trinkets but he acquiesced to their requests despite all the warning from his superior officers about the dangers the extremely volatile nature of Tony Stark posed. They agreed only on the condition that the artefact which was responsible for a severe energy spike, one that almost had the cave collapsing on top of the crew would be completely sealed off, especially to Stark and Banner.

 

The Mi-26 landed in an extremely inconspicuous area, completely sealed off by Military for a 100-mile radius on all sides. Rhodey almost expected Tony to be late as always but surprising the two of them were already there, Bruce as formal as ever while Tony looking worse for the wear. Both the men had stress lines around their faces, faces seemingly aged well beyond their years. Before the Colonel could even greet his two friends, Tony pushed past him in the heli-carrier, moving his way through the load. Bruce grimaced as he followed after the shorter man, joining him in his search.

 

Rhodey sighed, exasperated but not surprised at the behaviour of his best friend. He signalled the troops to wait outside as the clanks of objects being thrown aside and a mutter of “useless, stupid, useless” echoed in the carrier.

 

“Tony, you can’t just barge in-”

 

Bruce waved over his hand, quieting him down. “I really wouldn’t suggest you berating him right now, Rhodes.”

 

The clanks continued, a heavy set golden necklace with rubies and jade embedded into it nearly hitting Bruce in the face. Thirty minutes later, Tony was fuming as he stood beside Rhodey, letting Jarvis scan the storage.

 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me where it is.”

 

“Where what is, Tony? You don’t make any sense!”

 

Tony rolled his eyes at Rhodes. “I’ve eyes everywhere, Rhodes. The thing that caused the energy spike, bud. Please, Rhodes, this is about my damn life-”

 

Jarvis interrupted Tony’s speech. “Scan complete sir. No metal out of the ordinary was detected.”

 

Tony swore as Bruce slung his arm around the mechanic’s shoulders, whispering small comforts like how it’s going to be fine, how still had enough time. Rhodey, of course, demanded answers but neither of the two scientists bothered answering him as they were exiting the Mi-26.

 

However, as Tony was about to step off, a strange tremor ran down the length of his arms. Any other time he would have ignored it, playing it to be another side effect of the palladium poisoning but the odd feeling in his heart that accompanied it was impossible to ignore. As if in a trance, Tony went back inside following a clear path amongst the clutter he and Bruce had created and at last reached a small box. This whole while the tremor had increased, almost looking like Tony’s arms were spasming but it immediately stopped when he clicked open the box and touched the object inside. It almost felt like his nerves had been shredded and stitched back together, hours of precision and care gone into preserving his hands.

 

It was a thin gold-plated lamp, harmless in appearance, but there was a bristling energy that rolled off of it like a wild animal. Rhodey cried out a warning when he saw the box in his hands but the lamp displayed no effect on Tony’s touch. The only thing weird about it was that the metal was not cold but instead had a comforting warmth to it, like touching the inner palm of someone’s hand and yet the tips of the engineer’s fingers tingled as he lightly skimmed across its surface. What confused him, even more, was that his mind immediately returned to his dreams of the raven-haired mystery man with wings on the sides of his head. And just like the dream, he felt an intense attachment to the lamp, as though he had crafted it himself with his own blood, sweat and love. As though he had given birth to its existence. As though he had given metal to its form. Flesh to its skeleton.

 

As Tony stepped out of the carrier, Rhodey stopped by his shoulder. “You cannot have that, Tony. My superior’s specifically warned about maintaining strict government authority over it.” His jaw was set as he stared directly into his friend’s eyes.

 

“Listen, Rhodes, I am dying here, okay? And this not like the college days, the hangover dying. This is the end of the line. My stay in that cave damaged me more than I cared to elaborate on. My instinct got me out of that hell hole and my instinct right now says, that this thing can help me get back on my feet. Just… just give me two weeks with this and I’ll have returned to you. Two weeks, Rhodes and I promise you’ll have it back.” For the first time since the cave, Rhodey could see the quiet determination in Tony’s eyes. It reminded him of the old Tony, who had entered MIT as a mere fourteen-year-old, the quiet determination and intelligence in his eyes, ready to change the world. He nodded, patting Tony in the back.

 

“Two weeks. That’s all you get.”

 

“Thanks, sugar bear. You won’t regret it, I promise!”

 

“I better not, Stark.”

 

Tony grinned at him as he entered the car, Bruce already sitting in the passenger seat, eyeing the lamp sceptically.

 

“What do you plan to do with it? Rub it?”

 

Tony winked at his fellow scientist as he placed the lamp in the glove compartment, revving up the car. “Time to Aladdin up the lab, Banner.” Tony decided to tell neither of his friends about the intense feelings that he felt towards the lamp - they’d probably call him silly anyway.

 


	2. 2

Tony was starting to get frustrated with this lamp. What had possessed him to take it back to the lab with him? Just because of some made-up man he had seen in his dreams? He really was starting to get desperate. He had tested every inch of the artefact, from the crest of the curved handle to the tip of the spout. And it had all come back completely normal. It was just an everyday lamp.

 

In their anger and frustration on how none of the tests had yielded any results, both the scientists along with Dum-E, had grabbed a drill and a laser gun each and directed their tools at the lamp, brawn over brains being the very last tactic they could resort too but despite the lamp being very tiny and having an almost flimsy look to it, the surface hardly budged, not even a single mark marring its surface. Both Tony and Bruce had gone at it in turns, using every combination of tool available to them to break through it and the contents, Tony determined, it most definitely had to harbour inside it. Tony for some reason was absolutely sure that there was something inside the lamp, something very urgent to him but nothing happened. It stayed quite still, not even heating up from their ministrations.

 

'What's the point, Tony?' Bruce asked, stretching his torso to try to expel the ache that had settled in his back and shoulders. 'It's just a normal lamp.'

 

'Maybe you're right,' the mechanic said, defeated, 'but I know that there's something going on with this lamp. I can feel it in my bones.' He could feel it in more than just his bones; his muscles and tendons were firing off, his very cells screaming at him that this lamp was something good. _That this lamp could help._

  
The doctor rolled his eyes. 'Tony, we're scientists. We don't just do things because we have a feeling. This isn't a fairytale. You're dying and we can't be playing around with lamps just because it's pretty.'

  
Tony scoffed, hiding the fear that settled in his belly at Bruce's harsh words. 'Maybe I should rub it, see if a genie pops out and grants me three wishes,' he said with a chuckle.

  
Bruce rolled his eyes, the intensity of the movement nearly popping his eyes out of his head. 'Magic and genies don't exist, Tony,' he said, though there was amusement in his voice.

 

The engineer shrugged and returned to the lamp, studying it from its place on the table. Bruce, not needed anymore, left the room. When he heard the door click shut, Tony reached forward and cupped his hands under the spout and handle. He felt a crackle of energy, like a deep voice rumbling across his skin and suddenly-

  
_ There was that man. The red cloak. The blue robes. The hair like a raven with wings of white. The galaxies and universes and oceans that fused into two rings of Saturn in his eyes. The faultless cupid-bow lips framed by a crisp goatee so similar and yet so different to his own. He saw the hands, the scarred hands that looked like their touch could shatter a man into a million different pieces. He saw perfection crammed into one man. _

  
When he blinked again, he was on the floor, flat on his back, the lamp perched on his chest. He stared at it, shaken and worried. He wanted to meet this man more than everything. He had the strangest feeling that this man could save him, as though he would be able to latch his lips - those perfect lips - onto his skin and suck the very poison out of him, like a needle pulling blood from a vein.

  
But he was just a fantasy. A desire born from a desperate mind that was looking for anything to save him. And if he were to hold onto the idea that a man who didn't even exist could sweep him up into his arms and carry him off into the sunset like a prince on a white stallion, then he would hold on like a man gripping the edge of a cliff. And if that made him stupid, then he was indeed a fool.   
  


Tony shook his head as if trying to expel the absurd ideas that were taking hold of his head. True, he never ignored his instincts but they were getting too fantastical for his taste. Since when did Tony Stark get knights in shining armour to rescue him? Maybe the poison had finally gone to his head. Or maybe he just needed to loosen up a little. Bruce and Rhodey had long since stopped him from pursuing his destructive partying tendencies, with explosions and a hell lot of booze and women and men. God, he missed being with someone. Not that anyone would be willing to stick it to him, what with the ugly black zig-zagged lines, tracing along his nerves anymore.    
  
Never matter, he could still get booze. Add a little alcohol poisoning to his long list of problems. Tony stood up, wobbly, handing the lamp to Dum-E. “You take care of that buddy,” Tony smiled, affectionately petting the bot as he steadied himself. Despite trying his best to avoid looking at the lamp, his gaze kept getting drawn back to it. It was as if he was suddenly fourteen years old again and had just found the latest Playboy in his dad’s closet, he couldn’t help but stare at it. It’s so stupid, Tony kept reminding himself but on a whim, he grabbed the lamp again, steeling himself for the worst. When nothing happened, he twirled the handle around his finger and chuckled. “Come on, lamp-y, time to get our drink on,” the scientist whispered to it as he trudged back upstairs to his bedroom.   
  
By seven in the evening, Tony Stark could be found in the topmost floor of the Stark Tower, dressed in a simple Iron Maiden t-shirt and ripped jeans, jiving to tunes, a glass of scotch in hand… all alone. If anybody asked him what he was listening to he would say, the likes of Led Zeppelin, Guns N’ Roses etc which were the only tunes he could get his jive on to, nothing else.    
  
But the reality of the situation was quite different as Tony jumped off of his bed, mouthing the words, ‘ _ Yoooou can dance! Yoooou can jiiiiive! Having the time of your liiife _ ’ Tony sank onto his knees, imaginary mic in his hand as the lyrics went, ‘ _ Oooooooo, see that girl, watch that scene, dig the dancing queen, tuh duh, tuh duh, tuh duh, tuh duh duh duh _ .’ His hips rocked left and right, as he stood back, moving around in a little circle, gulping down his fourth… probably fifth glass. Yes, Tony Stark, richest man alive in the world was dancing and drinking to Abba, alone in his room. Was it a little sad? Maybe. Did he give a damn? Hell. To. The. No. He was dying and he will dance to fucking to the corniest of songs if he damn well pleased to do.    
  
The room had started to a spin a little so Tony plopped his ass onto the couch, next to the small table that held the half-finished bottle of Scotch whiskey sitting right next to the damn lamp. It had an almost ‘mystical’ glow to it from the amber hue of the whiskey. Tony snorted at the choice of his own words in his head, as he poured himself another glass. The song ‘It’s Raining Men’ by Weathergirls started playing and Tony giggled, letting the glass rest against his arc reactor. He sang along with the song, taking a swig of his scotch now and then. However, his gaze slid to the lamp and the words died in his throat, as the lamp somehow  _ beckoned _ to him. In a trance, Tony reached out for it, cradling it carefully in his palms. He pressed it against his cheek, the warmth welcoming against his skin.  _ God, I must be stupid, _ he thought, as he held it level with his eyes and very gingerly rubbed his right palm across its sleek golden surface.

  
For a moment nothing happened and Tony let out a shaky breath. But then the lamp grew unbearably, white-hot, causing Tony to yelp and let go of it. The very second it clunked on the ground next to his feet, a semi-corporeal figure ejected out of its pout. As a reflex, Tony immediately had his hand blaster ready in his forearm, ready to blast off the creature. He waited tensely, trying to judge how hostile it was.   
  
The figure was slumped on the floor, almost translucent, its dishevelled hair sticking out in all directions. Strange lines, almost like scars ran along the back of its fingers and palms, way up to forearms until they disappeared underneath some blue tunic- robe-like garment.    
  
Blue robes. Just like the ones the man from those flashes Tony had been having since yesterday seemed to wear.   
  
The figure stood up shakily, a low groan emanating from its … or rather  _ his _ mouth. The figure seemed to wave his wrist and there was an immediate change from his dishevelled look to a rather immaculate appearance. There was no mistaking that this was the very same man from his dreams. The blue robes, those exquisite eyes that seemed to harbour galaxies in them, now quietly surveying the room, high cheekbones that gave an almost delicate frame to the face, the white streaks that ran along the sides of slicked back raven hair and of course, the cupid bow lips. It was him, one hundred percent. Except he was more… see through?    
  
Another wave of his wrist, a red cloak appeared around his shoulders, framing itself impressively around his collar. Tony let his hand fall to the side, as the creature drifted closer, drifted because he technically wasn’t placing his feet on the ground as he drew closer to Tony, slightly bowing.    
  
“Good evening, Master,” the figure said, and his voice, oh god, his voice sent a chill down Tony’s spine. It was deep and it rumbled, like a ravenous lion roaring across the savannah, or a ferocious earthquake rippling across the mountains. It made Tony’s head spin, and he felt the sound waves hitting his skin, rolling across it as though attempting to soothe his aches and pains. He felt that voice deep in his core, and he knew that he would never grow tired of it. 

  
Tony let out a shaky breath, his hand hovering protectively over his arc reactor as the man stared down at him expectantly. When he had been singing along to the Weathergirls he hadn’t actually wished for men to be raining. But then, life had always had a very weird way of playing tricks on the mechanic since time immemorial.    
  


‘My name is Doctor Stephen Strange,’ the ethereal form said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, sorry in the delay of the update. I wasn't doing quite well the past couple of days.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony still hadn't said a word. He was staring at this man - Doctor Stephen Strange he had said his name was - this man who had called him a master and was now blathering on about wishes and magic. But what Tony was more interested in was the blue robes, the red cloak, the raven-white-wing-tipped hair. These features that he knew so well. He was shaking and he reached forward to try and touch Strange, just to brush his fingers against the very ash of the galaxy that made up his scarred hands, just to make contact with the dust of the cosmos, to cradle the craters of the moon that had constructed those perfect cheekbones.

 

But as he passed his hand through the fingertips of the universe, there was a roaring in his head that didn't just come from his looming hangover. There was a flash of colours that he had never seen, mingled together in stardust and planets, combined with the startlingly clear image of an undoubtedly solid Strange smiling down at him. A feeling of strong shaky arms wrapped around his middle encircled him, not just a memory but as though the man was truly standing in front of him, warmth pressed against and around him. He saw Strange lean down to his ear, goatee scratching against his cheek, comforting in its itch. He felt the whisper of a million stars and a million more meteors caress his ear.

 

The last thing he saw was the corporeal man's face crumple into a very concerned expression. His mouth moved and he reached out towards Tony, but the mechanic lost consciousness and collapsed.

 

\-----

 

His head aching was the first thing he felt upon regaining consciousness. He groaned and cracked open his eyes, squinting against the afternoon sunlight. The first thing he saw was a long, handsome face staring down at him; it would have been a lovely sight to wake up to, had the face not been translucent and three inches from his face. He let out a shout and his hands flew up to protect himself.

 

Strange floated back abruptly, his hands coming up to try to calm the mechanic. 'Hey, hey, stand down,' he said, 'I pose no threat to you, Master, you have my word.'

 

Tony sat up, taking a few breaths to calm himself. 'Okay, okay,' he said, 'just... what exactly...  _ are _ you?'

 

'I am a genie,' Strange said, drawing himself up proudly, 'I can grant you three wishes at a maximum. I can only be drawn from my lamp by royals, so-' he bowed deeply - 'how may I be of service to you, my prince?'

 

The genie had expected some sort of reaction like a gasp or a wish born of greed, but what he didn't expect was laughter. Loud and long laughter of a man that was baffled. He tilted his head and raised an elegant eyebrow.

 

'A fucking prince?' Tony cried. 'Listen, I don't know what sort of drugs Bruce put in that scotch, but I'm not a prince, Caspar, I'm a mechanic.'

 

Strange blinked. 'I regret to say that I'm rather confused, Master,' he said, pursing his lips and pinching his eyebrows in a way that had Tony's knees trembling.

 

'There aren't actually any princes or kings or any royals at all nowadays,' he said, 'this is America, we have a President, which is about the closest thing you'll get to a royal.'

 

The genie still looked devastatingly confused. The glints of the comets in his eyes flashed, forming constellations of bewilderment. The graceful crunch between the planes of his eyebrows created fossils of puzzlement. Tony had to admit that he was an incredibly attractive man, whether he was solid or not, though he had already known that from the flashbacks he had experienced.

 

With a thud that shook Strange's form like a tremor through fingertips, Bruce stormed into the lab. Tony looked up at the genie, wondering how he was going to explain the presence of a fucking ghost hovering above him. But Bruce didn't even look at the corporeal man floating in the air.

 

'Tony, what the hell are you doing?' he snapped, 'come on, get your ass in the lab, we have work to do.'

 

'Uh, yeah, sure, sorry, Brucie,' the mechanic said, rolling out of the bed and starting to walk towards the door, where Bruce had started to walk up to the lab. Then he faltered and stopped. He turned back around to Strange.

 

'Here, take this, have a browse through the internet about history and shit,' he said, pulling a phone from his pocket, navigating to Google and handing it to the genie, who cupped it like a precious artefact. 'Oh, and under no circumstances are you allowed to search up some kinky porn or whatever it is that you genies are into.'

 

Strange raised a brow but nodded. 'Yes, Master,' he said.

 

'Tony, who are you talking to?!' Bruce called from down the corridor.

 

'I'll see you later,' Tony said with a wink in Strange's direction, then turned and jogged to catch up with Bruce.

 

\------

 

It was early the next morning when Tony dragged himself back into his bedroom. He was aching and stiff from hunching over his experiments, but he wasn't planning on going to sleep. He would probably have some time to wind down, drink, play some music, and pass out on the sofa.

 

'Greetings, Master,' that rumbling voice tumbled down to him from the ceiling like a log descending a waterfall.

 

Tony looked up. Strange was floating upside down, legs crossed, palms upturned on his knees. He had changed his clothes again, this time appearing in a pair of jeans that hugged his figure attractively and a white t-shirt with a lion roaring on his chest. 'Sup, Caspar,' he said, sprawling himself on the sofa, 'what'cha been up to while I've been gone?'

 

'I traversed the internet, followed history,' the genie said, 'I learned about you, a very interesting read, I must say. I watched some cinematic pictures - the "Caspar" reference is quite good, I commend you on that.'

 

'You went through all of human history in, like... ten hours?' the mechanic said.

 

'More like in three,' the genie said, 'I'm a very fast reader with a photographic memory.'

 

'Impressive,' Tony said, 'I'm liking the new look, by the way, bit more up-to-date than the robes and cloak.'

 

'Thank you, Master.'

 

There was a companionable silence that settled over them like a blanket. Tony kept an eye on the genie, making sure he didn't cause any mystical dilemmas while he was just floating upside down. Strange subtly kept an eye on Tony, trying to figure out his feelings about the mechanic; the planets and the cosmic dust inside of him were aligning in a bizarre sequence, one that he hadn't felt in as long as he could remember, but it was familiar. He could have sworn that he had been programmed like this once upon a time.

 

But it was a life that he did not remember.

 

“Hey Casper,” Tony called out, interrupting the genie’s thoughts. “While you were on your quest through the internet did you happen to chance on a movie called ‘Aladdin’?”

Stephen as he drifted closer to the man who was busy stretching out the kinks from his shoulders, curious. “Not really, Master. What is this Aladdin, you speak of?”

“Oh please, none of that ‘master’ bullshit. At most, J.A.R.V.I.S calls me ‘sir’ but it just feels weird having a centuries old magical-voodoo man call me ‘master’. Really, Casper, Tony will do fine for now.”

“Ah, yes, Jarvis. One of mas- I mean, one of your finest inventions, a perfect Turing Test compatible AI. I am to take he was named after your butler, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, the old boy was more of a parent to me. But more on that later? What I need you to see right now, this damn treasure of a movie, Aladdin, alright Casper?”

“Sure, Tony.” Stephen watched as Tony reached forward for the remote, wincing as his back protested on being moved from the comfortable position he had settled in the recliner. Stephen, seeing his opportunity, immediately swooped in.

“Would you like me soothe out the problems you seem to be having with your muscle?” He whispered, taking his place reverently at Tony’s feet. The man, intent on fiddling around with the device pointing at the dark screen in front of them, barely heard the genie. Stephen, steeling himself again, repeated his question in a much louder voice.

“Huh, well, yeah that’d be delight- wait a minute,” Tony narrowed his eyes, directing his gaze toward the genie. “Is that you trying to get me to use one of my wishes up, Casper?” Tony’s tone was sharp yet there was an amusing edge to it which had Stephen smiling. 

 

“Well, Tony, genies are treacherous creatures. If you give them more leverage,” Stephen’s voice deepened, eyes glowing as he grew bolder, translucent fingers tracing along the edge of the mechanic’s foot, “They’ll end up taking advantage of you.”

Tony’s mouth dried, at this sudden change of behaviour on the man’s part, almost seductive and enthralling. However, the unearthly glow to Stephen’s eyes seemed unnatural, as if it wasn’t the man’s true nature coming forth but something almost alien to him. Tony hardly knew Stephen but was absolutely sure that this, whatever it was, wasn’t him. He snatched his foot away, eyes staring straight ahead at the screen which had lighted up with the Disney logo.

“You better stick to watching movies now, Casper,” Tony sassed at the genie, patting the seat beside him.

Stephen grinned, comfortably settling next to his mas- his Tony. It was unlike him, to reveal his ‘trade secrets’ as such; a genie isn’t meant to be all friendly with their owners but to trick them into wasting their wishes. But he couldn’t help himself around this ‘genius’ as the noble internet seemed to claim, his nature as a genie and something much more innate to Stephen himself, battling among themselves as he got to know the man better.

“By the way, Tony. May I ask you of a request?”

“Hmm?”

“My name isn’t Casper. It’s Doctor Stephen Strange. The nickname you assigned to me isn’t correct either in its shortening of my actual name and neither is it in any way indicative of my nature. I’m a genie, not a ghost.”

“Suit yourself, Stephanie.”

A quiet pause. “That name defeats the purpose of a nickname all together.”

“Listen, Stephanie,” Tony turned to him, pausing the movie, an exasperated look on his face “Did you, by any chance, get to the concept of silence over the internet?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I would suggest you employ it.”

The next half an hour passed in absolute except for the sounds springing from the screen and the rhythmic breathing of Tony coupled with the beats of his heart. For the genie, the sound from the screen almost drowned out as he attuned himself to the sounds of Tony’s body. It sounded familiar in a melancholic way, one that would have had Stephen crying if he was human. His hands shook with tremors his couldn’t feel, his non-existent skin reacting to the heat radiating off of Tony’s flesh. The song ‘Prince Ali’ echoed around the room, punctuated by Tony’s snores as Stephen rested his head against the engineer’s shoulder, pretending for a moment that he could actually feel the rise and fall of Tony’s body as he breathed in and out. In the quiet moment, it almost felt real.

In that quiet moment, Stephen almost felt real.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!! both me and Brinda were called away by college and university, and didn't get a chance to work on this fic

It is the sun that glints off brilliantly through his window that wakes Tony up. He had fallen asleep at the couch itself having been too tired from yesterday’s experiments and genies  and with the added burden of the literal ticking time bomb nestled in his chest, juicing up his heart, Tony didn’t really think he needed to justify to anyone, least of all himself why he had not bothered manoeuvring himself to his ever so comfy yet placed way farther off from the entrance bed. 

The television screen was shut off, probably J.A.R.V.I.S had detected him sleeping and switched it off, and the mystical Stephanie was missing.

Goddamn, that genie.

The sight of his eyes glowing, his voice a low, seductive purr as he spelt out what disaster awaited Tony at Stephen’s hands should he be careless had the engineer’s heart hammering hard and fast against his ribcage. Those long, deft fingers with marks running down their length had traced along Tony’s foot, gliding over the ankle, teasing the tips of toes had his mouth drying the last night. Granted he couldn’t actually feel the other man’s touch but some sort inexplicable energy had passed through him at the point of contact making his nerves thrum with nervous energy, reminding him of whispers, low murmurs and gentle caresses that never had existed. He had been clearly threatened with a big dollop of seduction on top but never before had Tony wanted to set his heart on a silver platter and present it to someone more than he did for the man that technically wasn’t even real.

Tony shook his head trying to get rid of the image of his doctor-genie in lieu of getting a glass of water for his sandpaper like dry throat. The clock read 8:50, which meant Bruce must be here already. He didn’t really want the Hulk busting down his door and thought it best to get ready right away. He instructed J.A.R.V.I.S to set the shower settings to his preferred ones as he brushed his teeth as he went through a holographic file of their progress yesterday. There had hardly been any, but Bruce was ever optimistic and being serious in his work was all Tony could do to keep himself tethered to the edge that was eroding away too fast.

Once he was done recapping, he stripped down quickly and stepped inside the shower which stored all the products a person could need to wash, thanks to Tony’s frequent visitors who were more than inclined to ‘stay the night.’ Right now, however, nothing of that sort was running through the mechanic’s mind. It hadn’t for months now.

Strange how the imminent prospect of death cleared one’s perspective on life.

Stranger how genies with the literal name ‘Strange’ manage to muddle the same perspective.

Tony, of course, had run his own check on genies and shit but nothing much had turned up on the internet or any other less accessible but illegally accessed sources. In fact, Tony had no way to discern between the actual mumbo-jumbo and the jargon so he had given up halfway irked. He had no plans for Casper, hardly had any reason to get any ‘wishes’ granted. He had pushed it all aside, sliding his focus to the more troubling matter at hand.

But it was not as easily ignored. The flashes, the ‘pseudo-memories’ couldn’t just be pushed aside when every blink of his eyes placed a much more solid version of the genie in front of him, the feel of his phantom-like form pressed solidly to Tony’s front, the minute hair on his arm rising in response to nonexistent baritone whispering in a foreign tongue next to his ear. It made him lose focus, drop tools on the floor, cheeks flushed red as his heart raced.

Tony was just reminiscing over this random breaks in his concentration which were frustrating and at the same time made Tony look forward to them when Jarvis broke through his thoughts.

“Sir, you’ve been showering far longer than usual. Is something the matter?”

Tony jumped back, yelping when he hit his funny bone at the side of the shower. “Rude, Jarvis!” Tony complained, rubbing the sore-tingly spot, “I was busy contemplating life.”

“I’m afraid, Doctor Banner is not particularly patient about your exploration of the importance on the trivialities of your existence in the endless, infinite universe sir. He says he has an urgent appointment and urges you to join him in the library as quickly as possible.”

Tony sighed, stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry himself up. “Tell him I’ll be down in three.”

“Doctor Banner almost made it explicitly clear that you’re not to meet him until you’ve had your breakfast.”

Tony groaned this time. “Jarvis, could you make it clear to Bruce that he isn’t my mother?”

The A.I paused for a while as Tony struggled to get his jeans over his slightly wet legs.

“I could sir, but I hardly think that it would the wisest course to take when it comes to the concern of your general health.”

Tony sighed as he slipped into his shoes. “Tell Bruce, I’ll be there in fifteen then.” He cast a curious glance around his room for any sign of the genie but no such luck so he left for the kitchen.

Breakfast was a hurried affair with some leftover pizza from last night’s takeout and coffee. The reheated pizza didn’t really have the same flavour and left a lot to be desired but the strong dose of caffeine took care of that. Cup in hand, Tony jogged up to the library, taking small sips of it as his burst of caffeine fuelled energy returned to him. He hardly ever got enough sleep these days but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He burst inside the room, banging the large mahogany doors aside with a loud cry of “Brucey” which died down midway as he took in the scene in front of him.

Bruce was pouring over stacks of both of their older unpublished research work and hovering on top of him was… Stephen. The genie was resting his chin on top of Bruce’s head, as the scientist flipped through the pages. On Tony’s grand entrance, both the men’s heads swivelled towards him, the only difference being that in direct sunlight Stephen was a bit more blurry than usual.

The scientist stood up, grimacing at the cup of coffee in Tony’s hand, as the other schooled his features to look more normal. Bruce had a light blue t-shirt on, accentuating his biceps, his usually messed up array of salt and pepper hair was brushed back along with his face all clean shaven, no unruly stubble decorating even an inch of his face. He even wore jeans which the man hardly preferred to wear what with his tendency to grow into a huge green, for a lack of a better word, monster. Tony suggested titan once but Bruce had just gone off on an explanation how an alien race called titans actually existed, all this knowledge sprouting off of his mouth thanks to the courtesy of his alien boyfriend, Thor.

“Date? Really?” Tony rolled his eyes as Bruce walked up to him, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Tony, it has been seven months since I last saw him and he is my goddamn boyfriend. One day, that’s all I ask.”

Tony snorted. “I don’t think he’d really approve the use of the word ‘Goddamn’.”

Bruce frowned. “Tony, be serious. I need to know you are okay with this. With me taking a leave for a day. Any other project I wouldn’t have even bothered showing up but this is literally life or death situation and I am already feeling guilty maybe I should cancel-”

Tony clasped the shorter man by his arms, steadying him and effectively cutting off his rambling. “You need a break, Brucey. Go and make out with your godly boyfriend okay? You’ve landed yourself a jackpot in the dating area and you deserve to make out with it whenever you want.” He hugged Bruce, clapping him twice in the back. “Just don’t do anything I won’t.”

Bruce rolled his eyes as Tony winked at him, a grin nonetheless gracing his face. “There is nothing you wouldn’t do you depraved man. That’s hardly a good boundary to set.”

“Exactly.”

Bruce hugged Tony tightly, squeezing the man. “Don’t lose focus and if you need me for anything call me immediately. Understand?”

Tony nodded solemnly. “I’ll call you every time I need coffee.”

“You have Jarvis for that, you ass. Speaking of Jarvis,” Bruce spoke out, glancing around at the ceiling, “Buddy, have you scanned through my papers and mailed them to me?”

“Yes, sir. They have all been categorised year wise and subject wise and mailed to you.”

Tony looked quizzically at the other scientist who shrugged with a sheepish look on his face. “Thor likes reading my work.”

“Oh my god, you cute nerds. Just have crazy bunny sex for once, will you?”

“We will. The papers are the foreplay.”

“Gross. I don’t wanna hear about it.”

“You insisted, Tones.”

“Whatever, buddy. You get your cute ass to your godly boyfriend now.”

“Be careful with your words. Or thunder might strike you out of nowhere.”

“I can take it, baby. I am Iron Man!” Tony waved good naturedly at Bruce as the other scrambled downstairs to the garage to drive off. Once the other man was out of sight, he rested his hip against the edge of the table where he had kept his cup of coffee. He took a sip of it, pulling a face immediately on tasting the sweet, sugary cold sludge and pushed it aside, directing his gaze towards the genie who had been quietly observing the scene enfolding in front of him.

“You almost gave me a heart attack there. I thought Bruce could see you.”

“I told you, master,” Stephen said, with the air of someone explaining the point of multiplication table to a five-year-old, “I’m invisible to all, except my owner. In this case: you.”

“Right, right. And what were you doing here?”

“I, being a genie, can’t sleep. The outside of your quarters seemed far more interesting than the sound of your snoring.”

“I do not snore!”

“Of course, Tony,” Stephen smirked at that, averting his gaze once again towards Tony’s earlier works, “you don’t. But I must say, this is quite advanced work you did at a fairly young age. How did you manage? Did you use some spell to enhance your work or look into the future?”

It was Tony’s turn to smirk and preen. “Of course not, Stephanie. That’s pure OG Tony Stark material, all brains and technology. In fact,” his eyes brightened, as an idea struck him, “why don’t you join me in my lab where I can show you real modern stuff not just the silly contraptions like TV and lights?”

Stephen nodded, drifting over to the open door, gesturing forward. “Lead the way, then Tony.”

* * *

Stephen seemed to emulate walking down the steps, even though his feet never actually made contact with the ground, as Tony led him down to his lab. He was explaining the ins and outs of wires in the TV and the cogs in the alarm clock. Most of it went straight over Stephen's head, but he liked to listen to the mechanic talk. A flower, the colour of a blushing cheek bloomed inside of his chest, giving him the most bemusing of sensations as though he was made of a cloud; he felt something that could not be mistaken as happiness. He shook the thought away.

Fantasies could not feel emotion.

Tony had moved on from explaining how the microwave worked to proudly showing off the machinery that he had made himself. But Stephen was not listening to how the Iron Man suits worked, he was watching Tony, seeing his mouth move, seeing his hands fling from side to side, seeing the pure innocence of joy spark in his deer-pelt eyes. Those eyes that seemed to belong to a deer, for they must have been too large for any human to possess. Those eyes that were so tender, a warm fireplace flicker when he looked at him. When his hands stroked his cheekbones and when those lips caressed his jaw.

But that was not Master Tony that stood before him now.

Stephen was thrown back through space and time, the stars and the planets whizzing past him in a blur as he himself became a shooting star. Burning brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter, until he burst through the Milky Way and was spat out in a kingdom that was lost to the destructive hands of time. He blinked, shaking like a newborn fawn, taking in his surroundings.

He was standing in a deserted corridor, walls made of rough cobblestone, the floor covered with a rug the colour of the finest grapes. His back was pressed against the wall, hands above his head, sandpaper stone scraping against his skin. But his hands weren’t quite above his head. There was a palm wrapped around his wrists, but whoever was pinning him was not quite tall enough, so his hands were about level with his head. And whoever was pinning him to the wall was quite an enthusiastic lover, if their hungry lips against his were anything to go by.

He blinked again and saw Master Tony in front of him. Those woodland brown eyes of his burned with fire as he looked into Stephen’s eyes, but there was no gentle flicker of a fireplace this time. There was real heat in Tony’s eyes, the type of heat that would caress the skin and leave it glowing afterwards. His mouth moved of its own accord.

‘Anthony, we can’t,’ he said, voice ragged with shortness of breath.

Tony or his look alike, but he could feel the same energy thrumming underneath the man’s skin, racing, tumbling and so fiercely loyal and loving, lowered his hands and settled them on Stephen’s hips. ‘No one will find us,’ he protested, nuzzling the taller man’s jaw.

‘You will be expected at your own wedding.’

What was this talk of marriage?

The mechanic didn’t seem to like the mention of the ceremony. He removed himself from Stephen, the slice of air between them seemed cold and empty, and the genie wished that he had said nothing if that meant he could have that blazing heat back against his skin for just a moment longer.

Tony looked up, suddenly confusion painting itself on his face. ‘Caspar?’ he said, tilting his head like a docile puppy. ‘Earth to genie? Stephen?’

The use of his actual name sent the genie firing back through the galaxy, twisting and turning until he was back in the workshop. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold onto the fading feeling of Tony’s warm lips against his own, but it was soon gone. ‘Master?’ he mumbled.

The confusion mingled with the fear made a beautifully adorable cocktail on the genie’s pearlescent face, and Tony smiled brightly. ‘I think you zoned out there, Caspar,’ he said, voice as warm as the Sahara.

But like the desert, Tony’s voice coupled with that smile was dangerous, and Stephen felt himself fall. He fell through the very earth and found himself ablaze at the very core of the planet, trembling and buzzing with something. He was unfamiliar with the feeling and yet he felt like he knew nothing better. He knew, in the very deepest of his tendons, that he had felt this feeling burn within him when he was with Tony. But when he had felt it, he was not sure.

‘Are you alright?’ Tony asked when Stephen had not responded to him.

The genie smiled fondly. ‘Yes, Master,’ he said, completely truthful in his answer.

The mechanic rolled his eyes and scoffed. ‘Please, it’s Tony, Mister Strange,’ he said.

‘I am a doctor,’ Stephen said, disgruntled, ‘it’s Doctor Strange.’

‘And I’m a mechanic, Strange,’ Tony shot back with a smirk, ‘it’s Tony.’

There was a beat of silence, where stars were born and died, where people were born and died, where illness struck and died. Where Stephen fell further. ‘Then I am Stephen to you,’ the genie said.

‘Tony,’ he added as a slow afterthought as if the stars seems to extract the word right from his lips to the place they truly belonged to; Master Tony’s sparkling doe-like eyes.


End file.
